All the memories are like ghosts hiding behind doors, threatening to leap out and destroy me once again.
They wander aimlessly along the corridors, wondering what was the point of creating such beautiful things if it wasn't to cherish them.
They wander and talk to me, tell me to look at the couch, the chair, the hall, the places you sat by me and told me things I cannot think about anymore.
I avoid your house at all cost, yet I spend so much time coming up with reasons to step in.
I keep my ghosts locked in a prison my heart designed especially for you.
Whenever I visit it, tears come out and say hello, hi, I'm sorry, those memories are beautiful, why are they caged in?
I have to swallow hard and explain I cannot let them roam freely in my twisted mind.
I have to hold my heart in because it threatens to jump from my chest and into a black hole.

Those nights are the hardest on me.